


The Jimmy Jab Games

by blackberry_jam



Series: Hinterlands Nine-Nine [2]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Brooklyn Nine-Nine AU, Carmelita is Gina, Duncan is Charles, Esme is Wuntch, F/M, Fernald and Olaf are Scully and Hitchcock, Fiona is Rosa, Isadora is Terry, Klaus is Holt, Quigley is Jake, Violet is Amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25163605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_jam/pseuds/blackberry_jam
Summary: “Never like, ‘we’re never gonna have a black president’ never?” Quigley asked. “‘Cause that happened.”“A real never.” Fiona said, smiling through her threat. “Like, if you ever ask me about this again, you’re never going to be able to eat without a straw.”She shut the fridge door and walked out.“Yeah, okay, well… you’re on the wrong side of history, my friend.” Quigley called after her.
Relationships: Carmelita Spats/Duncan Quagmire, i wont tag all the relationships, one sided Violet Baudelaire/Quigley Quagmire, they’re all friends - Relationship
Series: Hinterlands Nine-Nine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822243
Kudos: 3





	The Jimmy Jab Games

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back with another one. As last time, mentions of sex and violence, but nothing actually described. Same themes as the television show, ‘Brooklyn 99’, so if you don’t feel comfortable with that, don’t read this.
> 
> This one is based off ‘The Jimmy Jab Games’, season 2 episode 3, and, as last time, if you have a particular episode you’d like to read, let me know in the comments!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Ugh, motorcade duty.” Quigley moaned, walking into the kitchen, a mug clasped in his hands. “So boring. I honestly would rather sit around and listen to you talk about the right way to make paella.”

“There’s more than one right way to make paella, Quigley.” Duncan said. “There are ten right ways. You got classic, Valencian, modern—”

“No, wait, stop.” Quigley interrupted. “I changed my mind. I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

He moved to stand beside him, alongside the bench as Fiona entered the small kitchen.

“Hey, Fiona.” He said. “Just who I was looking for. Quick question, can I have your friend Friday’s phone number? I want to ask her out.”

Fiona shook her head. “No. I don’t mix personal and professional. You’re never getting her number.”

“Never like, ‘we’re never gonna have a black president’ never?” Quigley asked. “‘Cause that happened.”

“A real never.” Fiona said, smiling through her threat. “Like, if you ever ask me about this again, you’re never going to be able to eat without a straw.”

She shut the fridge door and walked out.

“Yeah, okay, well… you’re on the wrong side of history, my friend.” Quigley called after her.

“Friday, huh?” Duncan asked. “Wow, I can’t believe you’re not still pining for Violet. I mean, I pine for years. I still think about Olivia, the nurse that helped my nana pass.”

“Yes, I know.” Quigley sighed. “You've told me, like, a hundred times about the time your nana collapsed and accidentally pulled Olivia’s pants down.”

“Best day of my life.” Duncan remarked.

“I don’t have feelings for Violet anymore.” Quigley said. “So, it’s time for me to get out there and spread my—”

“Legs.” Duncan finished, nodding.

“Get out there and spread my legs?” Quigley cried. 

“Well, e-either way.” Duncan shrugged.

“No, not either way.” Quigley sad. “Only wings.”

“Listen up.” Klaus said, addressing them all. “There's been an issue with the motorcade. The Serbian President is delayed in Washington, and we can't start locking down intersections until he takes off.”

“Apparently he's on an important call with the Albanian President.” Isadora continued.

“Is that Bujar Nishani or is it still Bamir Topi?” Violet asked, interested.

“Oh, Vi, let me check.” Carmelita said, pulling out her phone.

Violet looked over, waiting for the answer.

“Hmm, it just says no one likes you.” Carmelita said.

Violet pulled a face.

“There’s a three-hour delay, minimum.” Isadora continued. “Captain Klaus and I will have to leave for a meeting at One Police Plaza. You should all stay prepped and ready. Dismissed.”

Isadora and Klaus left, and the others began to pick up their things.

“Guys. Guys, guys, guys.” Quigley said, and they all sat back down. “Three-hour delay with no Klaus or Isadora? Do you have any idea what this means?”

“Makeovers!” Duncan said.

“No, Duncan.” Quigley continued. “The Jimmy Jab games!”

They all cheered.

“The first Jimmy Jabs were held in 2008,” Quigley announced, his voice deep and put-on, “when the King of Iraq…”

“President of Iran.” Fiona interjected.

“... Armen Jimmy Jab” Quigley continued.

“Ahmadinejad.” Fiona corrected.

“... came to New York, and were on call for nine glorious hours in case there were protests. On that day, a young genius named Quigley Quagmire used the last piece of his bagel to create the first Jimmy Jab event. The monster mouth bagel toss.” Quigley continued. “And the rest was history. As soon as Isadora and Klaus leave, we will commence with Jimmy Jab seven, circus of fools.”

They all cheered, again.

Quigley began a chant, and they all joined in, starting quiet and getting louder and louder. 

“Jimmy Jabs… Jimmy Jabs. Jimmy Jabs. Jimmy Jabs. Jimmy Jabs! Jimmy Jabs! Jimmy Jabs!”

“Seems like we’re ready for our meeting with deputy chief Squalor.” Isadora said, gathering a pile of files on her lap.

“Is that how you plan on sitting?” Klaus asked, incredulously. “Leaning back like a matinee-goer? Esme will eat you alive.”

Isadora adjusted her pose, shooting him a confused look.

“That’s no better.” Klaus scoffed. “Hands folded on your lap like a pervert.”

“Sir, what are you so nervous about?” Isadora asked. “There’s a new drug in the precinct, and we need updated narcotics field kits. All we’re asking for is $1,200. How could she say no to that?”

“Sergeant, as long as I'm asking for it,” Klaus explained, bitterly. “Esme Squalor can say no to anything. I can’t even use her tissues.”

“Sir, she’s a deputy chief. I’m sure she wants what’s best for the community.” Isadora said.

“She doesn't care about the community. She only cares about defeating me.” Klaus claimed. “This is war, sergeant. The strike on Squalor.”

“Oh, good.” Isadora said, dryly. “You’ve named it.”

“So Jimmy Jabs, huh?” Quigley said, casually. “What do you say we make it interesting this year? Aha! We could play for Friday's number.”

“No.” Fiona said, firmly. “Is this why you wanted to do Jimmy Jabs?”

“No.” Quigley said. “Yes. Why? What gave it away?”

“You said ‘aha!’ and snapped your fingers.”

“Ah.”

“Oh, you wanna go out with Fiona’s friend, Friday?” Violet asked, walking over to join the conversation. “That’s great. She’s cool.”

“I know.” Quigley groaned. “But Fiona has this dumb rule about not mixing work with personal stuff.”

“That's actually not a bad policy. I once gave my aunt a jaywalking ticket, and things really deteriorated between us.” Violet said, grimacing slightly. “But, Quigley and Friday would be awesome together.”

“I know, right?” Quigley said. “She’s single. I’m single. She’s pretty. I’m pretty. So it’s settled. If I win the Jimmy Jabs, you give me her number and if I lose, you don’t have to give it to me.”

“I already don’t have to give it to you.” Fiona said, raising an eyebrow. 

“All right, I’ll give you $200 and I’ll never ask you for another number again.” Quigley bargained.

“Done.” 

“Hello, Carmelita.” Duncan said, entering the copy room.

“It’s daylight, Duncan.” Carmelita said. “Why are we talking?”

“This is an emergency.” Duncan said, anxiously. “I’ve been filming my fitness routine with the precinct camera to help improve my form. That’s where I got these tree trunks.” He paused, to flex his arms. “But I realized that I left the tape in the camera, and now it's gone.”

“Who cares? Who cares? Who cares?” Carmelita sang, clapping her hands in every syllable.

“You probably will.” Duncan said.

“What?” Carmelita said, her face falling. “You didn’t…”

Duncan nodded, slowly. 

Carmelita swore under her breath.

“Did someone check out the camera this morning?” Duncan asked.

“Yes, Olaf.” Carmelita said, looking horrified. “And if he sees it, he will tell everyone. You need to get that damn tape.”

“Okay.” Duncan said, determinedly, before turning and leaving.

“We're off.” Isadora said, shifting the report in her arms. “You’ll get word when the Serbian President is wheels-up.”

“You got it, sarge.” Quigley said, casually leaning against the fence post. “We'll just be here till you get back. Calmly and respectfully prepping. All right, they're gone!”

He stood up. “Ceremonial bagel.”

Duncan handed him the bagel.

“Flask.”

Olaf handed him the flask.

“Flame.”

Duncan flicked the lighter, and the bagel lit up.

Fernald walked out of the break room, a comical Viking helmet on his head and a hockey stick in his arms. He began to sing, 

“Jimmy jaaaaaabs. Jimmy jaaaah-aaaah. Aaaaah-aaaaah-aaaaah. Ooooh.”

Quigley dropped the bagel into a plastic waste bin, and an eruption of flame shot out of the top.

“Let the games begin.” He said.

“Welcome to the Jimmy Jabs.” Carmelita said, as she tacked up a photo of each of the competitors.

“We play for pride. We play for the phone numbers of Fiona’s friends. But most importantly, we play to watch Violet lose.” Quigley said, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Nope.” Violet said, defensively. “This is my year.”

“It’s my year too.” Fernald interjected.

“Please don't align yourself with me.” Violet said.

“Why not?” Quigley asked. “Neither of you have ever come close to winning. You're exactly the same, just a couple of Baudelaires.”

Violet made a face at him.

“But the real prize is the Winchester 3000, the only chair in the precinct with minimal staining, good lumbar support, and no broken rolly-wheels.” Quigley proclaimed. “Over to you, Carmelita.”

“Thank you, Quigley.” Carmelita said, formally. “Okay, guys, as usual, the loser of each event is eliminated from the games. The winner gets a bonus in the final round. Our first event is… ‘the mouthathon.’ In front of you is month-old Chinese food from the fridge. Go ahead and eat as much as you can stomach. On your Mark, get set, Wahlberg!”

They all hurried to open up the boxes in front of them, cracking apart the wooden chopsticks and begging to eat. They all gagged, groaning as they tried to beat each other.

“I can’t do this to my mouth.” Duncan groaned, pushing his box away. “She's the love of my life.”

“Duncan is eliminated!” Carmelita cried, gleefully, pulling out a thick red marker and drawing a cross through his photo.

“Ugh.” Fiona gagged. “I think this ball of soup is off… I’m out!”

“I can do this.” Violet chanted, as she shovelled noodles into her mouth. “I wanna win so bad.”

Quigley, sitting in the seat beside her, took out his phone. “Oh, great. Here, quick. Let me take a picture. Oh, that's so cute. You've got a little bit of mold on the tip of your nose.”

Violet gagged, dropping the chopsticks and pushing the tub of food away. “I tried. I tried, but he's unbeatable.”

They all looked up to the end of the table, where Fernald was eating the food as if it was still in-date. “You guys know this is free, right?” He said, bewildered as to why they had all stopped.

“Hello, Deputy Chief Squalor.” Klaus sneered as he went to stand up. “You’ve aged.”

“Stay seated.” Esme Squalor said. “We can do this out here, since you've already made yourselves comfortable. Sergeant Brown, why don't you just lie down?”

Isadora looked shocked. “I physically can’t sit any straighter than this.”

“We're here about a new and very potent form of ecstasy, which has surfaced in our precinct.” Klaus explained. “Street name, giggle pig.”

“Hmm.” Esme sneered, “an embarrassing blight growing right under your nose. Not unlike that moustache you had when we first met.”

“That moustache was era-appropriate.” Klaus said, through gritted teeth.

“The precinct just needs updated field kits to help us combat the problem.” Isadora explained, handing the report to her.

Esme began to flick through the report. “This paperwork is a mess. A semicolon that should clearly be a full colon? Was this prepared by a recent immigrant?”

“It’s just one typo.” Isadora said, unsurely.

“It's gibberish.” Esme scoffed. “Request denied.”

She stalked off, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

“Wow.” Isadora said. “You were right. All it took was one mistake.”

Klaus scoffed. “You think that semicolon was a mistake? No, it was a juicy piece of bait, and she unhinged her jaw and swallowed it whole.”

“So you wanted her to say no to us?” Isadora said, confused.

Klaus nodded. “Rejecting a valid request for such a petty reason, that's all the ammunition I need to go over her head. I secretly scheduled us a one-on-one with Esme’s boss, Chief Poe. You want to hear the funniest thing ever? I also split an infinitive, and she didn't notice.”

He began to laugh, and Isadora joined in, a forced expression in her face.

“Hey, buddy. Did you check out the department video camera by any chance?” Duncan asked, leaning up against the bench.

Olaf nodded. “Yeah, I was gonna take it home and videotape the top of my head. I think I might be thinning up there.”

“Cool, cool.” Duncan said. “So I accidentally left a tape on there, and I want it back.”

“Why?” Olaf asked. “What’s on it?”

“Nothing.” Duncan said, quickly. “I just really need it for no reason.”

“Well,” Olaf shrugged, “if you want that tape back, I gotta get something in return.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Duncan asked, incredulously. “I don’t have any money, Olaf. I’m still paying my uncle's funeral bills. I rear-ended the hearse. It was a mess.”

“There's one thing I want, and it's not that big. I just want you to make me cool in everyone's eyes.” Olaf explained.

“Not that big?” Duncan cried.

“The Jimmy Jabs has claimed its first victims. Duncan, you made no impact. Also, Detective Fernald has withdrawn due to food poisoning, which I think we all saw coming. All right, the second event is ‘bulky bulky run run,’ the bomb suit foot race.” Carmelita declared, as she drew another cross through Fernald’s face.

“Sure hope I don't sprain my arm during the race, 'cause I'm gonna be opening up a lot of doors for Friday on our date.” Quigley said, turning to Fiona. “Oh, yeah, I'm gonna be a gentleman.”

Fiona looked at him, incredulously. “What are you doing, Quigley?” 

“Trash talking you, while simultaneously proving that I will be respectful of your friend. It's a tough line to walk.” He explained, flexing his fingers. “Gotta loosen up my flower-buying fingers. I'm gonna go nuts on the daisies.”

“On your Mark... get set… Ruffalo!” Carmelita shouted. “Go!”

They all ran forwards, struggling not to trip over in the bulky bomb suits.

As they ran up the staircase, Olaf called, “I’m doing it, Duncan! I look cool!”, before promptly falling backwards.

Carmelita drew a big cross through Olaf’s face. “The next event will be ‘keep your cover’. Contestants must craft  
an undercover persona and talk to as many police officers as you can before being recognized.”

Fiona was dressed in a white wig, wearing big sunglasses and a white dress, imprinted with flowers. Violet had a pink hat on, her hair was braided around the side of her head and her matching pink dress concealed a fake pregnant belly. Quigley was wearing a yellow biking shirt, with a helmet strapped onto his head.

“Pregnant.” Quigley observed. “Nice. Means ‘ya had sex.”

“Damn right, I did.” Violet said, turning towards him. “And I forgot my birth control.”

“Yeah!” Quigley said, raising his hand for a high-five. Violet obliged, slapping his hand.

“I think the belly will draw attention away from my face.” Violet explained.

“Smart.” Quigley said. “Like one big boob.”

“Mm-hmm.” Violet nodded, and they turned back toward Carmelita.

“Quigley will go first, then Violet, then Fiona.”

They all nodded. “In your mark, get set, Paul Gosselaar!”

Quigley shuffled forwards.

“Please let me have the tape.” Duncan begged.

“No dice.” Olaf replied.

“I don't know how to make you cool. I'm not even that cool myself.” Duncan argued. “I mean, sure, I have a pizza stone.”

“You have cool friends.” Olaf argued. “Like Quigley. I just wanna be part of a conversation where Quigley uses my name and nobody insults me.”

“Damn it!” Duncan cried. “You ask too much.”

“Ugh.” Violet groaned, opening the door to the roof. “I blew it. I only got through two people. I asked a woman if she wanted to feel it, and then thought better of it.”

“Oof.” Quigley said. “I got to six.”

“Dumb baby!” Violet groaned, unstrapping it from around her waist. “People are right… they ruin everything!” She went to throw it on the ground, but Quigley stopped her.

“Hey, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa! I wanna try. Let me be pregnant.” He said, stuffing it up his shirt. “Whoop!”

“Adorable.” Violet said.

“Right?” 

Violet groaned. “I can’t believe I lost again! I was so psyched up for this. What happened?”

Quigley paused for a moment. “Well... maybe being so psyched up is what happened. Like every time we're doing police work, you're always super-smart and you stay calm and take your time, but every time we do dumb games like this, you get all frantic and act like a crazy idiot. My advice... next time don't act like a crazy idiot.”

Violet thought about it. “Thanks. That's surprisingly insightful.”

“Yeah, well, motherhood…” Quigley said, thoughtfully. “Really opens a man’s eyes. I finally feel as if I'm part of something bigger than myself.”

“All right.” Violet said.

“Too much?”

“Yeah.”

The door flung open and Fiona stormed onto the balcony. “Quagmire. What the hell? Where were you? I got eliminated. I didn’t even make it past one person.”

“You’re out?” Violet called, gleefully. “I’m in the finals?

“And all I have to do to get Friday’s number is beat Violet?” Quigley asked. “Oh, that’s nothing.”

Violet made a face, reaching out and hitting at his stomach, still protected by the fake pregnancy belly.

He gasped, dramatically. “Hey! Don’t you dare touch Violet Junior. That’s right. It’s your baby!”

Violet gasped, deeming her voice. “Are you sayin’ I knocked you up?”

“You sure did!” Quigley cried.

“Quigley.” Fiona said. 

“Hmm?” Quigley hummed.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Fiona asked.

Quigley nodded. “Yeah, sure thing.” He pulled the padded fabric from under his shirt and handed it to Violet. “Hold that.”

“Sure.”

Quigley crossed the roof, and he and Fiona headed inside. 

“All right, Quigley…” Fiona sighed. “You wanna call off the bet?”

“Seriously?” Quigley asked. “You’re gonna back out now just ‘cause you’re losing? What is this, a riverboat casino on the river of no rules?”

“No.” Fiona said, sternly. “I'm giving you a chance to call off the bet because it's clear you don't actually want Friday’s number because you're still into Violet.”

“What?” Quigley cried. “That's crazy. I just spent the whole day fighting for another girl's number.”

Fiona shook her head. “You spent the whole day flirting with Violet.”

“Yeah, we're joking around because we're friends now that I've moved on.” Quigley said, rolling his eyes.

“Then prove it.” Fiona said. “Beat Violet and don't flirt with her at all.”

“Fine. Easy.” Quigley said. “But you better tell Katie to clear her schedule out Thursday for a date, 'cause I am working nights until then, and the following weekend, I am out of town. Let's do this!” 

“Hey, Quigley.” Violet said, walking up to his desk. “Question for ‘ya. When I beat you, which victory dance should I do? This one?”

She began to shake her shoulders, back and forth.

“Or, this one?”

She flapped her arms by the side of her body, as if she was trying to fly.

“Oh, wow, okay.” Quigley grinned, before catching Fiona’s glance. “Uh, both are examples of victory dances.”

“No comeback?” Violet asked. “After I burned you with those moves? You must be pretty nervous.” 

“Yep.” Quigley said, slowly.

“Hey, Quigley.” Duncan said, approaching the desk, Olaf in tow.

“Hey, Duncan.” Quigley said.

“Who’s this with me?” Duncan asked, gesturing to Olaf.

Quigley blinked back at him for a moment. “Olaf?”

“Well, we should go now.” Duncan said, as they walked away.

Quigkey stared after them for a moment, before shaking his head and turning back to his desk.

“Wow!” Olaf exclaimed to Duncan. “What a high! Do you guys feel this way all the time?”

“I did what you wanted.” Duncan said. “Give me the tape.”

“Oh, no, we’re not done yet.” Olaf said. “Next, I want you to tell everyone you think I’m handsome. Make it seem natural.”

“You are a monster!” Duncan cried. 

“So they’re calling the drug ‘giggle pig’?” Chief Poe asked. 

Klaus and Isadora nodded.

“Chief Poe.” Esme Squalor said, as she entered the room. “Sergeant Brown. Klaus.”

“Deputy Chief Squalor.” Klaus said. “I didn't realise you’d be attending.” 

“I can tell. You have more of a fly-catching gape than usual.” She said to him, before turning to her boss. “I've examined his proposal. There's no proof that giggle pig is a serious problem.”

“So we're just supposed to wait until it turns into an epidemic?” Klaus scoffed. “You're like The League of Nations in '36… just hoping the Abyssinian crisis resolves itself.”

“That's the lesson you draw from the fall of Addis Ababa?” Esme scoffed. “Klaus, you sound so naive.”

“And you sound just like Victor Emmanuel III.” Klaus retorted. 

“I have no idea who's winning.” Isadora admitted. 

“I am.” Klaus assured her.

“Captain Schimdt, how serious a threat do you really think giggle pig poses?” Chief Poe asked.

“Very serious.” Klaus said, quickly.

“Or, it could be nothing.” Esme interjected.

“Or it could be the new crack.” Klaus argued.

“The new crack?” Chief Poe gasped. “And you only need $1,200 to fight it?” 

“Well, in an ideal situation, we would attack the problem with a lot more fire power, perhaps even a task force.” Klaus shrugged,

“That makes sense.” Chief Poe nodded. “Let’s make it happen.”

“That was amazing!” Isadora cried. “We got a task force!”

“And more importantly, Squalor got served.” Klaus replied.

“You got your task force.” Esme remarked, coming around the corner. “I'm surprised.”

“That's funny, after 20 years, I'd think you'd be used to me slam-dunking in your face.” Klaus retorted.

“I'm surprised you didn't see what was going on in there.” Esme smirked. “I got you riled up, you oversold giggle pig, and now you're running an expensive task force in a time of budget cuts. You better make some big arrests... and quick, or you'll be the poster boy for departmental waste. Slam dunk... returned.”

“Not if we make those arrests.” Klaus replied. “3-point dunk.”

Isadora stepped forwards. “You guys really don't know enough about basketball to be doing this.”

“Join hands, one and all, for we have reached the final event of the Jimmy Jabs… the obstacle course.” Carmelita declared.

“Good luck.” Violet smirked. “You’re gonna need it.”

Quigley laughed, weakly, as he caught Fiona’s gaze again, before stiffly saying, “Yes. We all need luck. Thank you for offering me some.” 

Violet made a face at him.

“On your mark, get Seth… Rogen!” Carmelita shouted, and they both ran forwards.

“Contestants must make it past the barricade hurdles then use a bean bag gun to get a snack.” Carmelita called, as if she was commentating a sports game. “You will eat the snack in its entirety.”

They had both picked up their guns, and aimed them at the vending machine. Quigley hit one first, and fell to his knees in front of it, shoving his snack into his mouth. Violet was right behind him, and as he got to his feet, she just finished stuffing hers in her mouth.

“Next, head down to the first floor…”

Quigley, just ahead of Violet launched himself over the fence and into the elevator, viciously smashing the elevator button.

“Close, close, close, close!” He cried, as Violet rushed through the doors. “Ugh!”

“... where you will locate a pamphlet about bullying.”

They both grabbed their pamphlets, and continued to run back to the bullpen.

“Then print out a picture of me using a laptop from 1982 and whoever grabs their printout first is the winner!” Carmelita announced.

They sat down in front of the old computers, furiously tapping on the keys.

Quigley got his to work first, and ran towards the printer. 

“Surprise twist!” Carmelita yelled, as the officers standing by sprayed the area with fire extinguishers.

“Aah!” Quigley, who was already halfway through, yelled, as he was covered in it.

Violet stopped, just outside the runway.

“What are you doing, Baudelaire?” Fiona shouted. “Go!”

Violet looked around, frantically, as Quigley began to yell, “aah, you’re burning my skin!”

Violet’s eyes landed on the Winchester 3000, sitting by and she grabbed it, blocking the direction the fire extinguishers were being sprayed from and ran through, using the chair back as a shield. 

“No broken rolly wheels!” She cried, as she raced through.

She got to the end, grabbing her printout and cheering. “I did it! I took my time, I wasn't a crazy idiot, and I won!”

She began to do one of her victory dances, her eyes shut as she sang. 

“What’s going on here?” Klaus boomed.

Violet snapped to attention, her arms falling beside her as she shot backwards, the picture of Carmelita’s face still gripped in her hand.

“Someone answer him now!” Isadora shouted.

They all stared back at them.

“Baudelaire!” Klaus snapped.

Violet shook her head, wildly.

“Quagmire!” 

Quigley stayed still, staring back at them.

“Miller?”

“Olaf is very handsome.” Duncan stammered.

“Why, thank you, Duncan.” Olaf said.

“No one has anything to say?” Klaus asked.

Fiona stepped forwards. “Captain, what you just saw was the Jimmy Jab games. It's a bunch of dumb contests we play to kill the time. Nobody even cares who wins.”

“I won!” Violet interjected.

“It's stupid, but we like it.” Fiona finished.

“Clean this up. Now.” Klaus snapped.

“Duncan, I'm ready to take this to the next stage. You're gonna pierce my ear... wait.” Olaf gasped. “What are you doing in my locker?”

“I can't do this. I can't make you look cool.” Duncan sighed, desperately, still searching through the locker.

“Because you're afraid that Quigley and I are gonna cut you out.” Olaf said, knowingly. “Well, you're not wrong.”

“I'm gonna find that tape.” Duncan snapped.

“You think I'd just leave something that valuable lying around? I got it on me.”

“Gimme that tape!” Duncan cried, rushing towards him and tackling him to the ground.

“The Serbian President's plane is wheels up.” Klaus explained, as he came out of his office. “Report to your motorcade positions immediately.”

They all picked up their bags, and made for the exit. 

“Let’s go!”

Fiona caught Quigley’s arm as they left. “Hey, you gave it a good try. Sorry you lost.”

“No. It's for the best.” Quigley sighed. “I let Violet win. I pressed the ‘open doors’ button, instead of ‘close’. You’re right. I’m not over her.”

“Duncan, get out.” Fiona said, opening up the car door. “I need to talk to Quigley.

“Okay.” Duncan said, before turning to Quigley. “Bye!”

As he stepped out, he said. “I warmed up the seat.”

Fiona sat in the passenger seat, and pulled a face. “Ugh, he did warm up the seat. It's like a fire pit.”

Quigley sighed, as he turned towards her. “Look, if you're here for your $200, can I interest you in a check that will definitely bounce?”

“No.” Fiona said, firmly. “You will pay me in cash.”

“Okay.” Quigley said. “Look, I thought I was over Violet, but clearly I'm not, you know? I’m as frustrated as you are.”

“I'm not frustrated. But I am not enjoying this. It is not like you to get hung up on a girl.”

Quigley sighed again. “I don't know what to do.”

“You call Friday.” Fiona sighed, holding up a post-it note. “That’s what you do. The only way to move on is to move on whether you think you're ready to or not. Gotta get out there, man.”

“All right.” Quigley said, reaching out to take the scrap of paper. “Thank you.”

“Good luck.” Fiona said, earnestly.

“Are you okay, sir?” Isadora asked, sitting down opposite him. 

“I don't want to sound dramatic, but today has been suboptimal.” Klaus sighed. “That doesn't leave this office. Esme beat me. The squad was a disaster. And in the end, you know who I'm angriest with?”

“Yourself?” Isadora asked.

“No.” Klaus scoffed. “Esme. I need this task force to succeed, and there’s not a detective here who’s adult enough to lead it. Quagmire and Baudelaire were cowards, Widdershins was disrespectful, and I just saw Olaf and Duncan fighting like children.”

“Sir, I know you think Fiona disrespected you, but I found her inspiring. She did what I should have done… Stand up and tell you the truth.” Isadora said.

“And what truth is that?”

“Esme didn't beat you.” Isadora explained. 

“She saddled me with this task force.” Klaus spat.

“You think she's consumed with pettiness? You're no better. Yes, the task force is risky, but it gives us a chance to do a lot of good in the community. Sir, if you ask me, you're acting like a real Victor Emmanuel III.” Isadora explained.

“You used that insult completely incorrectly.” Klaus said. “But… I suppose I have let Esme... distract me from our purpose.”

“Which is why I think Fiona should lead the task force.” Isadora said. “There's no B.S. with her.”

“Agreed.” Klaus said, finally. “Thank you, sergeant.”

“How was the motorcade?” Carmelita asked, sitting beside Duncan at the bar. “Any assassinations?”

“No.” Duncan sighed. “It was boring.”

“Mmm. Well, thanks for getting the tape back.” Carmelita said, standing up. “I'll see you tonight at my place? God, I hate you. Don't be late.”


End file.
